Gryffindor Spirit
by JustYourVoice
Summary: What does it mean to be a gryffindor- Especially during the second wizarding war? Stories from different HP characters' POVs during Deathly Hallows based on songs.
1. Chapter 1: Lion Hearted Girl

**A/N: This is my first (and probably only) fanfic. I've had this concept in the back of my mind since seeing some wonderful fan art based on Rabbit Heart by Florence + the Machine. You can find it here: wenbys . tumblr post / 13998224070. Just remove the spaces. Anyway, this story will be told from different characters' points of view during Deathly Hallows and based on songs that include the word "lion" in them. This first chapter takes place right after Dumbledore's funeral. I tried to keep this as true to canon as possible. Most of the dialogue is from the final chapter of Half Blood Prince and belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. As much as I love the movies, they always short change Ron. He's so great how he stands up to help Harry on the hunt and the movie doesn't give him any dialogue. Not…a…single…line….grrrr…Ok, ending rant. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please review with your honest opinion.**

**Update: I screwed up… I needed this to be canon, but I put Hermione in the wrong place during Dumbledore's death. So I wanted to change this and add more detail to her chapter (since it is the shortest out of all of them and I love Hermione).**

Dumbledore was gone. Everything had changed. There was no more protection… or at least what was serving as a façade of protection. Hermione and her friends would have to grow up and finish what was begun long before they were born. The night Dumbledore was murdered; she and Luna were separated from the rest of the Order, from Neville and Ginny, and from Ron. She had made a grave mistake. She had let Snape, the Headmaster's murderer, escape to complete his secret mission. As much as the others had tried to reassure her, she still felt incredibly stupid. After her experiences with Umbridge last year, she should have known better than to blindly trust a professor.

She and Luna had found Professor Flitwick collapsed in Snape's office and Hermione had levitated his unconscious body to Madam Pomfrey. It was torturous waiting in the hospital wing; worrying whether her friends were maimed… or worse. She knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if her foolish mistake led to the death of one of her friends. The relief that had flooded her when they entered the hospital wing alive was short lived. When Harry had told them that Professor Dumbledore was dead, she was shocked and confused. How could this have happened? He was too wise to have been outsmarted. He was too skilled to have been outmatched. He had seemed almost immortal. Hermione now realized how childish that notion was. No one was immortal and certainly no one was safe.

There were evil people who wanted to kill her just for being who she was- let alone that she was friends with the Boy Who Lived. She remembered the battle in the department of mysteries only last year. A killing curse paired with a hissing scream of "Die, filthy mudblood!" was shot toward her. If it wasn't for a quick shield charm on her part, she would be dead. With this revelation came great fear…. Not just for herself, but for her parents.

She was a "mudblood" after all and her parents were outsiders to a world from which even she was still held at arm's length. But that wasn't entirely true, was it? The Weasleys had welcomed her into the family with open arms. Especially Ron as evidenced by how she was now enveloped in his arms, scant tears running down his long nose into her hair.

She had jumped with surprise when Ron had grasped her hand during Hagrid's slow procession up the center aisle. She shouldn't have felt so thrilled during a funeral. After the ceremony, Harry had taken Ginny aside to talk to her. Hermione let go of Ron's hand and stood. She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes. She did not want Ron to feel uncomfortable like he usually was when in the presence of a weepy girl. Ron seemed full of surprises, however. He turned her toward him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders; her hands gripping his shirt.

Hermione began to silently sob against his shoulder. Although she felt like she was crumbling on the inside, his arms were holding her together; making her feel solid again. If only he knew what his embrace meant to her. She didn't comprehend how much she missed him over the past months until this moment of comfort. Harry and Ron were her best friends. Harry was the closest person she had to a brother and Ron was… Well, someone very dear to her. She cursed herself for letting her jealousy keep her from one of the most important people in her life.

"_If we just stay together, we can do this… I think? I mean, we've faced so many challenges together, but this will be our greatest one yet. Honestly, Hermione, you call yourself a Gryffindor!?"_ She often pondered throughout her years at Hogwarts why she was sorted into Godric's house. On her first train ride, she thought that she would be best suited for Ravenclaw because she was clever and had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Yet, the sorting hat made her a lion and she was proud of it. She had to be a courageous one now.

Her mind was whirring and it was starting to make her dizzy. It was just another reason she appreciated the strong, freckled arms enveloping her. Usually she could organize her thoughts and draw logical conclusions, but with each new problem came more questions than answers_. _

"_Will we be coming back to Hogwarts next year? Will it be safe with Dumbledore gone? How can I protect my parents? What about Voldemort and his horcruxes? Harry will probably want to go off on his own… well, he can forget that! What about Ron? What __**about**__ Ron? Was this the right time to tell him why I was so jealous? No, I need to focus on helping the boys with finding the horcruxes. This is not the time for anything that could distract us from the mission. And they won't be leaving me behind, or so help me! At least they finally realize I'm a girl. Be careful what you wish for."_ She was thankful that her thoughts were interrupted by her ginger friend's soft murmur.

"Hey… Harry's having a chat with Scrimgeour… and by the looks of it it's just as pleasant as the last one."

Hermione lifted her head from Ron's shoulder to watch Harry slowly turn away from Scrimgeour as he stalked away in the opposite direction.

"Won't the ministry ever get it through their heads that You-know-who is taking over? There is a bloody war starting, but they are doing nothing! I can't believe my pounce of a brother is on their side!"

He hugged her tighter, shaking with frustration, but she did not mind.

"I swear, if I see him again, I'm gonna have to smack some sense into him!"

She managed to free one of the hands cramped between their upper bodies and slid it up his upper arm tentatively. She wanted to say something reassuring, but she couldn't find the words. She was really losing her senses! First she couldn't think straight and now she was rendered speechless. Before Hermione could form a reply, he slowly (and she hoped reluctantly) released her and followed Harry; knowing that she would not be far behind.

When they caught up to Harry, he relayed Scrimgeour's renewed offer. Ron couldn't seem to control himself again, "Look, let me go back and hit Percy!"

Hermione grabbed his arm and firmly said "No".

"It'll make me feel better!" he mumbled under his breath.

Harry laughed and Hermione smirked. Ron could always make her laugh even when the situation was serious… it made her feel giddy and exasperated at the same time. She decided that she had to share at least one of her many thoughts and fears that was floating through her head.

"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back. How can Hogwarts close?"

Ron answered, "Maybe it won't. We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer. There are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," said Harry.

There it was… what she had concluded earlier. Harry was planning a solo mission where he would nobly sacrifice himself for the wizarding world.

"I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?"

Harry stated his plan to stay at the Dursleys' for a short time then head to Godric's Hollow to search for clues and visit his parents' graves. He was going to find and destroy the pieces of Voldemort's soul whatever the cost because Dumbledore had given him this task and she knew it was what he was destined to do.

None of them spoke for a while, but Hermione's brain kept talking... _"Well, what do you want to do? What do you NEED to do, Hermione Granger? Are you as bright as they say you are? Can you really call yourself a Gryffindor?"_ She started formulating the plans, organizing the checklists, and reviewing her research. Yes, she was going to join Harry in his hunt…. There was no question. Certainly, she was still afraid… she would be a fool if she was not. But she knew that being brave does not mean that you are not afraid…. It means you face the fear and fight. And she was going to be ready for that fight. She opened her mouth to tell her friends this, but before she could, Ron got there first.

"We'll be there, Harry."

Hermione's heart swelled with pride and affection for Ron. She should have known his plan would be the same as hers, but he could still surprise her with the certainty of his conviction and loyalty. Once again, there was no question…. They were best friends…. Family… they would be together to the end. Harry made to protest (Really, the boy could be so thick sometimes…), but Hermione steeled herself. She would not back down. Her boys would know that she was not going to take a backseat. She and Ron had counted the cost and were willing to pay it.

"No…" Harry was shaking his head stubbornly.

"You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?"

She beamed at Ron and he returned it with a determined nod.

He turned back to Harry and said, "We're with you whatever happens".

She would be using her books and cleverness to help in the hunt, but her most important assets would be friendship and bravery, hands down.


	2. Chapter 2: Run This Like a Lion

**A/N: So it has been a while since I posted and I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read my first chapter. I have since edited that chapter and finalized it. Now on to Ginny's story! I had the most difficult time trying to understand her personality. I have to give credit to my friend, Kellen, for helping me gain more perspective on her character as well as approving this chapter for publishing. This story is based on the song "Viola Lion" by Isles and Glaciers… check it out… it is a fantastic song!**

She was one of the first to say she would go on the mission, but as always she was shot down. "You are underage… you have the trace on you… your brothers and father are already in danger… you're needed at home." They were just another list of stupid reasons that meant she must stay behind. She was always left out and left behind. She didn't want to be part of the rescue mission for her pride or some sense of adventure. Didn't anyone realize that she was just as capable of fighting as they were? Didn't they realize she had just as much to lose as anyone else?

Ginny Weasley peered out the kitchen window at the night sky for any trace of her Dad, her brothers, her friends, or her boyfriend… correction… her ex-boyfriend. The people most precious to her were risking their lives tonight. Her heart was in her throat at the thought of losing any of them. If she could split her magic between each of them; give them each a bit more power against the forces of evil; she would in a heartbeat. But here she was, helpless and waiting.

A flash of blue light appeared in the yard and Ginny threw the back door open to run toward the Portkey. Her eyes scanned the yard and she found the rusty oil can… without passengers.

"_Ron and Tonks should have been back first," _she recounted the Order's plan in her head. She thought of her brother and surrogate big sister. _"No, they are strong… they'll find a way back…"_

"Come back inside, dear," her Mum whispered while placing a hand on her shoulder, "They'll be hungry when they get back."

Ginny wanted to pull her hair out. She knew her Mum was only trying to offer words of comfort, but she was sick of being coddled. _"But what if they don't come back… what if they are off bleeding somewhere and they need our help? Everyone keeps trying to tell me everything is going to be fine. It hasn't been 'fine' for a year now! There is a war upon us, but 'I'm only a child', right? 'I wouldn't understand!' Dumbledore's dead, the ministry's infiltrated, but I'm expected to just go back to Hogwarts and act like nothing's wrong. What a load of bollocks!"_

She resumed her task of preparing a stew for the Order and desperately tried to focus on cutting the vegetables; anything to distract her from the night sky. Another flash of blue from a lonely old sneaker brought her and her Mum out to the yard in search of their family. Ginny was filled with dread. _"No Dad… No Fred… where are they?"_

The beautiful sky strewn with stars seemed to mock her. Any other night she would have relished the view. A star shot across the sky and she thought for one moment that it could be a broom rocketing home, but her hopes were soon dashed. She murmured under her breath, "Please come home… please come home…"

As if to answer her whispered prayers, a third blue light flashed and there on his hands and knees was Harry. Her Mum screamed as she watched Harry throw the glowing hairbrush aside and Hagrid struggle to his feet. The slow torture of waiting was instantly relieved and then quickly replaced with a new agony. It was the first time she had seen him since he left King's Cross for the Dursleys'. She wanted to embrace him, but she didn't know if she was allowed to anymore. They weren't together after all. _"For some stupid noble reason…"_ she thought bitterly.

"Harry? You are the real Harry? What happened? Where are the others?" cried her Mum.

"What d'you mean? Isn't anyone else back?" Harry panted and his gaze flicked to the burrow and then to Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry's eyes widened with realization. "The Death Eaters were waiting for us. We were surrounded the moment we took off- they knew it was tonight- I don't know what happened to anyone else, four of them chased us, it was all we could do to get away, and then Voldemort caught up with us-"

"Thank goodness you're all right," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling him into a hug that he seemed to reluctantly receive.

Her Mum hurried off to the burrow to retrieve brandy for Hagrid and, Ginny knew, to hide her tears. Harry turned to her and she knew from his face that he needed more information. _"Well, if I can't hold his hand, I will do whatever I can to ease his mind."_

"Ron and Tonks should have been back first, but they missed their Portkey, it came back without them. And that one," indicating the ancient sneaker, "should have been Dad and Fred's, they were supposed to be second. You and Hagrid were third and," she glanced at her watch, "if they made it, George and Lupin ought to be back in about a minute."

A fourth flash of blue light and Lupin appeared supporting George on his shoulder. Ginny gasped at the horrific sight of her brother's face covered in blood. Harry and Lupin carried George into the sitting room; the light revealing a hole where his left ear should have been. If it wasn't made clear before, there was no doubt that the war had started. Injuries and casualties would become common place. Her Mum set to work propping George up on a pillow.

"Go get a water basin and some linen," her Mum urgently ordered Ginny.

She ran to the washroom for the requested supplies in time to catch a glimpse of the fifth blue flash. Through the tiny washroom window, she saw Hermione fling herself into Harry's arms. She tore her gaze from the window and her heart leapt into her throat. As she ran back to the sitting room, she pushed down the feelings of jealousy for the ease in which Hermione was able to embrace Harry.

"_Hermione does not love Harry like that. She said he's like her brother. She's told me in so many words that she fancies Ron. So why can't I comfort Harry- Because he wants to protect me? What if I don't care?" _She sighed inwardly,_ "Thank Merlin, Hermione is alright."_

Her Mum was able to staunch the blood from George's ear. Ginny was startled when Harry came up behind them.

"How is he?"

Her Mum replied, "I can't make it grow back, not when it's been removed by Dark Magic. But it could have been so much worse… He's alive."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Thank God."

"Did I hear someone else in the yard?" Ginny asked. She knew Hermione was here, but she wanted to know if she was injured as well and wanted to ease her Mum's mind… at least a bit more.

Harry confirmed that Hermione and Kingsley were safe in the yard.

"Thank goodness," Ginny whispered and for the first time they made eye contact. She saw a fiery gleam in his emerald eyes; something she remembered seeing many times last school year. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but forced her hands to grip the sides of her trousers. She was determined to maintain her gaze, silently communicating all of her thoughts to him in her blazing look.

"_I will wait for you, Harry James Potter. I think it's crap that you, of all people, are leaving me behind. You should know that I will fight. Haven't I proven myself to you? You will come home to me when this is all over… oh, how I hope this war will be over someday…until then, I will fight and you and no one else will stop me!"_

The spell was broken when Ginny heard her Dad shout fiercely at Kingsley to get out of his way. Her Dad! He was alive! She watched fondly with moist eyes as her Mum embraced her Dad and sobbed into his chest. "Arthur! Oh, Thank goodness!"

Her father dropped to his knees beside George and she glanced at Fred's pale face as he looked at his wounded twin. Leave it to the twins to bring humor to a solemn situation. However, the moment was short lived as they were all reminded that Ron and Tonks had yet to return. Harry glanced at her and motioned to her to walk with him to the yard. Ginny cursed herself for being over eager to accompany him.

Harry looked guilt ridden and sick. He was blaming himself again; carrying a heavy burden that no 16 year old should bear. She couldn't control herself anymore; she grasped his hand firmly in hers. The minutes seemed to tick away into an eternity. Their silent vigil was joined by all the able bodies of the Order. Finally, Ginny squinted at the stars. She thought it was another shooting star, but quickly saw shocks of ginger and pink hair.

"It's them!" screamed Hermione.

Tonks and Ron landed in a skid and were nearly knocked over by Lupin and Hermione respectively.  
>Harry let out the breath he was holding and chanced a relieved glance at Ginny. She ran back inside to let her parents know Ron and Tonks were back. <em>"One more brother to go…"<em>

Bill and Fleur returned within the hour. "Mad-Eye's dead," were the first words from her eldest brother's lips. There it was… the next casualty in what would become a growing list for the Second Wizarding War. It was in that moment that Ginny realized that she needed to grow up. She could sit and whine about not being included in Harry's mission or she could figure out her own way to fight this war. Yes, she loved Harry with all her heart… she'd loved him for ages, but for whatever reason, legitimate or not, he couldn't be with her. If fighting in the war meant fighting within Hogwarts that is what she would do. She had never run away from a fight. Growing up with six brothers toughened her up. For the first time, however, her heart wanted nothing more than to run away with Harry. She shook the thought away for she knew this war was bigger than them both. She may lose her parents. She may lose her brothers. She may lose her friends. She may even lose Harry, but she would not stop fighting until her last breath left her lungs.


	3. Chapter 3: Little Lion Man

**A/N: Oh Ron, I love you, but you make my writing difficult… Ok here is the reason for the delay. One of my favorite characters in the HP universe is Ronald Weasley. Part of the reason for this is because I can relate to his sense of insecurity. So since I know and love him, he should be easy to write, right? Haha… wrong… I guess I have been so afraid of screwing this up that I have had a paralyzing case of writer's block. Finally, here it is! I have to just release it and let it be. The song was easy to pick for this one- it is "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Son. Thanks again to Kellen for reading through the first drafts and giving me renewed perspective on Jo's great characters.**

The steady pounding of surf meeting sand contrasted with the rapid pounding in his head and throbbing in his fingers. He gripped the index and middle fingers of his left hand; his fingernails another casualty of sudden apparition. Maybe his determination wasn't focused enough this time... or his deliberation. He felt sick to his stomach but it wasn't from the apparition.

He had left them.

And worse yet, he realized his mistake as soon as he made it. He escaped the snatchers he had run into and immediately apparated back to the forest he had just left. He had searched the hillside for hours and had thought he had recognized the trees surrounding their campsite, but he should have known. Hermione's enchantments concealed them perfectly because, of course, she was brilliant.

He trudged through the sand toward the ramshackle yet cozy looking house; exhausted from the hike and weary of the reaction he would receive. Hadn't he wanted this? To see his family and know they were alright? What would they do if they knew what he had done? He knew Ginny and the twins would hex him. He knew his dad would be disappointed. What would his Mum think? He shuddered at the thought. Now here he was praying to Merlin that only his newlywed brother would be at home.

He climbed up the steps and onto the porch. He lifted a fist to knock on the weather worn teal door, but it opened before he could do so. Bill's scarred face stretched in alarm.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" Bill leaned to glance around Ron's tall and lanky frame. Seeing that he was alone, Bill's brow furrowed in confusion. He grabbed Ron by the front of his jacket and pressed his wand to his neck.

"Oi, Bill!" Ron cried.

"What did I tell you to do the morning of my wedding?" he stated fiercely, never breaking eye contact.

"You... you told me to... to ask her to dance and to tell her... That I lo... How I feel..."

Bill instantly released his younger brother and then just as quickly pulled him into a brotherly embrace. Bill invited him in and Ron followed his brother through the sitting room. An apprehensive voice came from the kitchen.

"Mon amour, oo eez et?" Fleur stood in her dressing gown, hugging herself, but relaxed when she saw Ron. "Oh, et eez Ron, 'Arry, an' 'Ermione? Are zey alright?"

"No, it's just Ron", Bill's brow furrowed again, "but it looks like he may need some healing attention."

Fleur's eyes widened. "'Ou are bleeding! I will be back!" And she swept gracefully out of room to retrieve the necessary potions. The brothers were silent for a moment, but Bill broke the tension.

"Where are Harry and Hermione? They're not..."

"No! I mean... At least I hope..." But Ron couldn't finish his thought. The lump in his throat grew harder and harder. He felt tears prickle in the corner of his eyes.

"_Don't be a poof! Not in front of your brother..._" He hung his head and shifted his weight from side to side. Bill placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron glanced at his eldest brother and saw the concern in his eyes.

"Can you get back to them?"

Ron let out a deep, shaking sigh, "I don't think so... I mean... I tried for hours, but they are so well hidden..."

Bill nodded his head firmly, "we'll figure something out. Until then you are welcome to stay in the guest room... If it's alright with my better half that is..."

"Of course, 'e can stay as long as 'e needs" Fleur said as she glided back into the kitchen with a variety of multicolored bottles.

She started working on staving off the bleeding of his left hand and fussing over the state of his clothes. Ron was eerily reminded of his mum.

A half hour later, Fleur sent Ron off to bed. "Voila… eet eez the best I can do I'm afraid. The fingernails may not grow back, but otherwise 'ou are healed."

"My flower, you could have been a healer if you wanted to"

"Oui, but then I would not 'ave met 'ou" Bill winked at Ron, who would have chuckled if he didn't feel so bloody miserable.

*W*W*W*W*W*

The following weeks were filled with periods of self-fury and fitful sleep. Ron stayed in the bedroom for the majority of the time; only opening his door when Fleur or Bill insisted on him eating something. _"How stupid of me for thinking food and a warm bed were more important than my friends."_ He relived his worst moment over and over in his head. He remembered every venomous word he had spewed at his friends. When he could stand it no longer, he would cast a hasty _muffliato_ and scream in rage at his own selfish pride.

As much as Ron wanted to blame his bitter attitude on the locket, he knew that he always had those poisonous thoughts. The locket only made them more acute and inarguably true. He realized how slowly the cold ticking of the locket began to match his own warm beating heart; becoming attuned to him yet infecting him. Even now when he abruptly awoke from a nightmare, he would start blindly clutching at his chest; hoping to feel the locket against his skin. It was foreign and familiar to him all at the same time. It made him sick… because it felt like he _missed_ the locket.

When Ron _was_ able to sleep, he would have the same horrific nightmare. Yes, some of the details would change, but it always ended with his friends and family confirming his worst fear. _**"We are better off without you." **_To make matters worse, sometimes he thought he could still hear the locket in his head. Anytime he would try to brainstorm ways to find Harry and Hermione, the malicious thoughts would attack him full force. Today was no exception.

"_Think! What did Hermione say were places that we could camp?"_

"_**Ha! Pull the other one, Ronald! Think? Not exactly your strong suit, is it? But come to think of it… what are you good for?"**_

Ron couldn't argue with that logic. Everyone had always been better than him. Bill was the charismatic leader. Charlie was the strong adventurer. Percy was well-mannered and top of his class. The twins were hilarious and the life of the party. Even if Ginny was his younger brother, instead of "the only girl", she would be cooler than him. She was just impressive. And Harry and Hermione? He wasn't even going to start listing off their qualities. What could he do? He didn't have any talent or skill or knowledge. He was worthless.

"_**You've always just been the sidekick in the shadows. No wonder your mother wants Harry in the family. You've been such a dismal disappointment as a son."**_

The one thing he had always prided himself on was his loyalty, but he definitely hadn't been a good friend as of late. Actually he had deserted his friends when they needed him most. He was the betrayer. He was no better than Peter Pettigrew.

"_Wait a mo'… there is a difference between me and that rat. I want to get back to them; I want to make this right."_

"_**Would they even take you back? You would probably bollocks something else up! You would just get in the way of the budding romance between Hermione and the Chosen One. Remember, she chose him! She hates your guts because you are rude, poor, clumsy, thick… should I go on? And Harry? You call yourself his best friend? You abandoned him… and the things you said? You will be run out of camp so fast, your head will spin."**_

"_I don't care."_

"_**What?"**_

"_I am going to find them. And even if they are snogging away, I will step aside. Hermione deserves someone like Harry, not me. I will protect them… I will protect her with my last breath. That is what I should have been doing the whole time! If they run me out of camp, I will follow them so I can watch over them. If in order for them to advance, I need to be taken… so be it. That's my job… I'm a pawn."_

The voice would try to argue every now and again after that, but Ron was able to keep it at bay. And then sometime in mid-December, he went the whole day without hearing the voice at all.

*W*W*W*W*W*

It was very early Christmas morning and Ron was awake. He had been unable to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. He turned to his bedside table and grabbed the small wooden wireless Bill had given him. He performed the ritual of tuning the dials, lightly tapping his wand on the top of the radio, and whispering the code word, "Cedric". The only things keeping him from going mental were the Daily Prophet and Potterwatch. As long as there was a continuing search for his two friends, he knew they were still alive and fighting. He just prayed he could join them before it was too late. Under the crackling of static, Ron thought he heard something else. He brought the wireless close to his ear, but heard only the hiss of dead air. He shook his head. _"I must be imagining things. Great… I've gone barmy."_

But then he heard it. His name. Spoken by the one person he most wished to see at that moment. His heart leapt into his throat.

"_Could it be… after all this time?"_ He tried not to get his hopes up, but he could not stop the kneejerk reaction. He leapt from his bed and scrambled to the door.

"Hermione? Are you there?" He opened the door only to find an empty hallway. He hung his head in disappointment. _"Stupid idiot… thought she was at your door, did you?"_

He made his way back to his bed, but then he heard it again.

"Ron… his wand… never the same…" He was startled to realize that the voice was coming from _him_. He reached into the pocket of his jumper and pulled out the Deluminator. He turned it over in his hands; examining Dumbledore's invention. He was sure of it now. Her voice must have come from the Deluminator, but how? He clicked it and all the light went out in his room. This was nothing new. Ron had taken to the habit of clicking the lights on and off when he was bored or nervous. _"Even when it annoyed Hermione and Harry to no end."_

But then he saw it… outside his window in the distance, he saw a blue light. It instantly reminded him of the blue glow of a portkey. _"I can return to them."_

Ron didn't hesitate. He started throwing all of his belongings (not much) into his old rucksack. He ran downstairs, out the back door to Fleur's garden. The sun was just beginning to rise, but Ron could still clearly see the pulsing glow of the little ball of light. He walked up to it and slowly reached out his hand to touch it. The blue light bobbed away from his grasp and drifted behind the garden shed.

"_Oh no, you don't!" _He ran behind the shed to catch up. The light was there as if waiting for him. It floated toward him gracefully and before he knew what was happening it was inside him. He felt the warmth settle in his heart. It grew stronger and brighter until he felt like he was glowing. Ron closed his eyes and took a heavy breath.

"_Take me to them."_ His body felt the twisting sensation of disapparition. He didn't know his exact destination, but his determination and deliberation were stalwart. Ron was going home.


	4. Chapter 4: Are You a Lion or a Lamb?

**A/N: Here we are… the final part of my story. The companion track for this chapter is "Lion/Lamb" by Low. It is simple, but when I first heard the song, I instantly visualized Harry's walk into the Forbidden Forest and I cried. Originally this chapter was going to be Harry's perspective, but Kellen pointed out to me that it was already written… by JKR! Yeah, so I'm not going to even try to measure up to that. After much discussion, I realized that there is another Gryffindor's perspective to write from… Neville Longbottom! Now, I don't really understand Neville's character very well, but I did a lot of reading and research (went to the library as it were… hehe) and this is the end result. Without further ado, here is the conclusion of Gryffindor Spirit.**

A hush had fallen over Hogwarts. Halls that had once reverberated with the chaos of war; now lay in silence. Yet no matter how hard he tried Neville was unable to stop the ringing in his ears; the remnant of past explosions. He had to get back to work. Voldemort's cease fire probably wouldn't last long and the bodies needed to be moved out of the way. Yes, these fallen warriors were dead, but they were loved and lost. The least they deserved was not to be trampled in further battle.

His eyes scoured the destroyed courtyard and fell on what appeared to be a crumpled Gryffindor house robe. A lump formed in his throat. As he approached, he quickly realized that the robe was a person- the small body of Colin Creevey. He knew that Colin had been expelled from Hogwarts this year because he was muggleborn.

"_He wasn't supposed to fight… he was supposed to be safe. He and his brother were in hiding. He must have snuck back in. But, really… I would have done the same thing. There's no way I would stop fighting."_

He and Colin were Gryffindors. They couldn't run away from their friends, their family, or their school. It just couldn't be done.

"Do ya' need a hand?"

Neville spun around to see Oliver Wood. He remembered him from his first year at Hogwarts. Oliver had been the seventh year Gryffindor quidditch captain. He had been strong, tall, and brave… everything Neville thought he never could be when he grew up. But now they found themselves in the same place. War seemed to do that to people. It was the great equalizer.

"Yeah… sure…" Neville mumbled and cleared his throat.

"Did ya' know him?" Oliver questioned as they simultaneously stooped to lift Colin; Oliver at his feet and Neville at his shoulders.

"Yeah… we were both members of Dumbledore's army. He loved taking photographs of all of us." Neville couldn't help but give a quiet snort at this memory.

"I think he got a little carried away his first year. He would always hassle Harry for signed photos. But when people doubted Harry, he stood by him. Insisted that he and his brother should join the DA the moment he heard about it."

Oliver gave a curt nod. "Sounds like a good kid."

Neville felt his eyes glass over. He cleared his throat against the lump that persisted there. They carried Colin in respective silence until they entered the castle.

"You know what? I can manage him alone, Neville," said Oliver, and he heaved Colin's small body over his shoulder and carried him into the Great Hall.

Neville was tired. He took a moment to lean against a nearby door frame and gather his thoughts. He wiped his trickling forehead before any liquid could get in his eyes. A mixture of dirt, sweat and (hopefully) his blood were on the back of his hand. He would need to find Madam Pomfrey at some juncture to repair the more serious of his injuries. Now was not the time. After a quick mental inventory of his injuries, he realized that he had come out of the battle pretty much unharmed. ("_I mean, what's a couple more cuts and bruises?") _He had a slight limp from the sharp way he had twisted his knee, but he was still able to walk on it.

His thoughts went to the bodies now laid to rest in the Great Hall. Colin was the newest addition to a long list of friends and family he had lost. How much more loss could he sustain? He thought of his parents and was reminded anew of what could have been. It was because of Voldemort that he was practically an orphan. It was because of the Death Eaters that his parents seemed unaware that they even had a son.

He had always been proud of his parents; proud to be their son. But growing up, sometimes he wished that it was all a great mistake. Maybe his real parents were squibs and Frank and Alice Longbottom only took him in out of the goodness of their hearts. The evidence had been there. How could someone so ordinary, so untalented come from two of the bravest and most skilled Aurors? He was shocked when he performed his first bit of magic. _("He bounced! I swear he bounced!"_, his uncle had cried out._)_ He was relieved when he received his letter to Hogwarts, but he resolved to keep his head down and go unnoticed for his seven years of education. It was not to be, however, the moment he found that none other than Harry Potter was a student in his year.

The greatest shock came when he was sorted into Gryffindor house. How in the world did that happen? He had argued, begged, and pleaded to not be in Gryffindor. (_"…Hufflepuff! Yeah, that's right… why not Hufflepuff? I belong there!") _But the Sorting Hat would not recant its decision and he was "stuck" as a lion. "_So much for laying low at school."_

For the next seven years, he dealt with Malfoy and his thugs bullying him and Snape's scathing remarks about his abysmal skills. But he also found friends in Godric's house. He found bravery inside himself that he never knew existed- especially leading the DA this last year. He seemed to thrive as a teacher. He enjoyed teaching the younger students the basic defense spells he had learned his fifth year. He was no longer the (possibly) adopted child of two Aurors who had been driven to madness. He finally felt like he had inherited their spirit and their strength.

He patted his breast pocket where his Gran's letter lay. "'_I'm proud of you… Your parents' son…' that's what she had written."_

He was becoming more and more aware of how his body ached the longer he leaned against the door frame. It was time to move. He stood up straight and headed outside to recover more bodies. He bent down to recover another body from the rubble when he heard his name called from behind him. His heart raced a million times a minute and he whipped around. He realized then that the voice did not come from any foe, but from a familiar source.

"Blimey, Harry, you nearly gave me heart failure!"

The Invisibility Cloak was pulled away to reveal none other than Harry Potter. Neville surveyed the courtyard. _"No Ron… no Hermione…_ _why is he alone?"_

"Where are you going, alone?" Neville asked suspiciously.

"It's all part of the plan," said Harry. "There's something I've got to do. Listen… Neville…"

"Harry!" He remembered Voldemort's goading ultimatum and knew Harry had a compulsion to sacrifice himself for his friends.

"Harry, you're not thinking of handing yourself over?"

"No, course not… this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort's snake, Neville? He's got a huge snake… Calls it Nagini…"

"I've heard, yeah… what about it?"

"It's got to be killed. Ron and Hermione know that, but just in case they…" Harry paused and Neville tried to force the words _dead _and _killed_ out of his mind to no avail.

Harry continued, "Just in case they're… busy… and you get the chance…"

"Kill the snake?"

"Kill the snake," Harry confirmed.

It seemed odd. As if Harry were giving some sort of last mission. Harry had always been the leader. However as Neville looked at "The Chosen One", he was shocked to feel he had a kindred spirit in Harry. They were "the lost boys" of Hogwarts. Both of them had had their parents forcibly ripped from them by Unforgiveable Curses during their infancy. They both knew what it was to have lost something so precious, but only have a feeling of what was truly lost. They were both avenging a horrific atrocity. It was a tragedy that they could not really remember besides in their nightmares, yet they lived the injustices of it every day. And here they were- by all rights, they should have been staying as far from danger as possible; not running into the line of fire and facing the darkest wizards and witches. He swelled with pride. Neville Longbottom- the pudgy, clumsy oaf of a boy was counted as a valuable member of Dumbledore's Army. And more importantly, he was considered a loyal friend. He was Harry's friend.

Neville searched Harry's face. He looked older than he had ever seen him; tired and sad yet resolute.

"All right, Harry. You're okay, are you?"

"I'm fine. Thanks, Neville." Harry's eyebrows knit together in concentration. He seemed urgent about something.

Neville may be naïve at times; however he knew there was a possibility that his friend may not make it. The "boy who lived" could only survive so many times. Hell… he knew he would probably die today. But he resolved to meet his death head on and take some Death Eaters down in the process. The cause and the mission were too great to end if and when Harry and he were no longer breathing. Before Harry could leave him, he felt a strong urge to bolster his friend. Seizing his wrist, Neville tried to state his confidence in Harry as forcefully as possible.

"We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?"

"Yeah, I…"

The end of Harry's statement trailed off into silence. Neville patted him on the shoulder. An understanding seemed to pass between them. Nothing else needed to be said. He released him and turned to get back to work. He heard a fluttering of a cloak and he glanced over his shoulder to find nothing there. Harry was gone.

**A/N: So there it is. I want to thank the people who gave this story a chance. If you would like to post a review, it would be appreciated. However, I'm not going to demand it. I am just so pleased if you have read it. I think this might be my only story, but I've recently had some ideas about another HP fic so I'm not sure what I'll do in the future. Thanks again!**


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